


The Bandit-King Job

by serenelystrange



Category: Leverage
Genre: Animal Rescue, Feels, Gen, Humor, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 19:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29672412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenelystrange/pseuds/serenelystrange
Summary: No, Parker, you cannot just pick up an office mascot off the street. No matter how cute it is!For sternenblumen - Thank you for participating in the Leverage Secret Santa Exchange this year!
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8
Collections: Leverage Secret Santa Exchange (Mod Gifts)





	The Bandit-King Job

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sternenblumen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternenblumen/gifts).



“Hey guys, look what I found!” Parker calls out, something wiggly bundled in a sweatshirt under one arm.

Eliot’s in the kitchen as she comes in, and he pauses chopping mushrooms to look up at her warily as she locks the door behind her and comes fully into the apartment.

“I’m going to regret asking,” he says, already sighing internally. “What did you find?”

“Ooh, is it a kitten?” Hardison asks, popping up from the sofa and moving towards Parker and the bundle.

“Not exactly,” Parker says, peering into the small opening in the bundle and making cooing noises at it.

“Please tell me it’s a puppy,” Eliot says, putting the knife down and wiping his hands on his apron. It’s bright pink and covered in lacy frills, a joke gift from Hardison last year. Naturally, Eliot wears it every chance he can now, just to spite Hardison and his attempt at humor. Sometimes it’s all he wears, but it never stays on too long on those days.

“I couldn’t just leave it there,” Parker says, instead of answering the question. “It would have frozen to death.”

Just then, the bundle under her arm makes a particularly pitiful whining sound, somewhere between a whistle and a sad chittering squeak.

“The hell makes that noise?” Hardison asks, freezing in place halfway to Parker.

Eliot, however, groans.

“Parker, tell me you did not steal a baby raccoon.”

Parker glares at Eliot and holds the bundle closer to herself in a protective stance.

“I didn’t steal it,” she says. “I rescued it from an icy death.”

“Of course you did,” Eliot says, sighing again but unable to stay annoyed when Parker is looking at him so earnestly.

“Just look,” Parker says, uncovering the baby raccoon’s little face for Eliot and Hardison to see.

“Aw, it is pretty cute,” Hardison admits, looking down at its furry face. “Look at its little bandit mask!”

He reaches out to try and pet the raccoon’s fur but Eliot grabs his wrist in a vice grip and stops him before he can.

“Raccoons make up about 30% of the cases of rabies in wild animals,” he says.

“It’s not rabid,” Parker says, frowning at Eliot for even suggestion such a thing.

“Maybe not,” Eliot allows. “But we don’t want to take that chance. Once you’re infected, there’s usually nothing they can do for you.”

“You know, I am still scarred from Old Yeller, actually” Hardison says, pulling his hand out of Eliot’s grasp and sticking it in the pocket of his jeans.

“But we could have an office raccoon!” Parker says, grinning at the idea. “Look at those little hands! It’d be the perfect little thief!”

Eliot does smile at that, and huffs out a laugh.

“That would be cute,” he says, “but you know it’s not feasible. He needs to see a vet. Who knows what happened to his mother, and I don’t know enough about raccoons to know if he’s healthy or not.”

“Could be a she,” Parker says, tilting her head curiously at the raccoon. “I didn’t want to unbundle it to look, in case it ran away.” “Plus,” she adds, “I’m pretty sure I saw its mother squashed in the road. It’s a little orphan now, we can’t just get rid of it.”

“Aw, man,” Hardison says, frowning sadly. “Poor raccoon mama.”

“He’s awfully docile,” Eliot says, walking closer to Parker to get a better look. “I’d expect a lot more wiggling and shrieking.”

“It was really really cold when I found it,” Parker says. “I bundled it up the best I could and came straight here. I was hoping the heat would help.”

“Oh, babe,” Hardison says, sympathetically. “We really should find a vet that can help.”

“I know,” Parker says, softly. “But it was nice to think about having an Office Raccoon. He or she could’ve been our mascot!”

“I know a place,” Eliot says, shrugging on his jacket and gesturing for the others to follow him.

“Of course you just happen to know of a wild animal vet rescue,” Hardison says, shaking his head in fond laughter.

“Just be careful,” Eliot warns Parker. “Hold it snug and if it scratches or bites you, say something immediately. Got it?”

Parker nods sadly, but does as she’s told, following Eliot out of the door, Hardison following and locking up behind them.

A few hours later, the baby raccoon is safely with the vet rescue place, and Hardison is driving them home in the latest Lucille, Parker in the passenger seat and Eliot in the back. It’s awkwardly quiet, and Hardison can’t help but feel bad that they’ve quashed Parker’s Office Raccoon dreams.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t keep him,” he says, giving Parker a quick glance before focusing back on the road.

The vet had confirmed the little bundle was indeed a boy, and Parker had been quick to name him, despite the fact that they were told the wild animals don’t tend to be named.

“Snuggles would have been a great mascot,” Parker agrees, before sighing softly. “But I know it’s best for him to be there, getting healthy and everything.”

“You did the right thing,” Eliot says from the back. “Bringing him to us, I mean. Instead of just leaving him there. You could have just called animal control instead of picking up a possibly rabid animal of course, but still. I’m glad you didn’t just let him freeze.”

“I had to try,” Parker laughs. “Even if I knew you wouldn’t let me keep him.”

“Maybe we can get an office cat or something,” Eliot offers.

“We do spend a lot more time in town than we used to,” Hardison agrees, nodding. “And cats are pretty independent, in case we do have to be gone for a few days.”

“I bet I could teach a cat to pick a lock,” Parker muses, grinning at them in that way she does when she’s only like 75% joking.

“You absolutely could,” Hardison says, because he has no doubt Parker can do anything when she really tries. “No little thing like a lack of opposable thumbs will stop you.”

Parker laughs at that, dissolving the rest of the quiet tension that had taken over the car, and even Eliot snorts in amusement from his seat.

With plans to check out the shelter cats in the morning, they finally head home, looking forward to tomorrow.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, the title is a Starkid Trail to Oregon reference. I have no excuse.


End file.
